


Communion

by Scancrasher



Category: Transformers (Dreamwave Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Masturbation, Other, some kind of crazed religious sexual fanaticism idk what to even call it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-25 00:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scancrasher/pseuds/Scancrasher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Star Saber offers a prayer to Primus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Communion

**Author's Note:**

> Just a super short little porny thing, which ended up being surprisingly fun to write!
> 
> It had to be done, and tumblr user ghost-twerk made me do it.

Tyrest was not what anyone would call a reasonable mech, and this annoyed Star Saber. He wasn't concerned with the possibility that the judge was clearly becoming more and more unhinged by the day as he wallowed in plans of mass genocide and religious delusions, though. He was irritated that the other mech didn't seem to understand why his holy warrior needed occasional _alone time._

That meant no Legislators looming around, no comms about breakthroughs in their ongoing search for the missing apostate, no dealing with Pharma ( _especially_ not that), no interruptions, _period_ , until Star Saber had finished what he needed to do. Tyrest had never asked for details, which was good, because Star Saber wasn't interested in giving them. What transpired was between him and his god.

Cold sparklight filled the room; Star Saber's chestplates had long since drawn back, complex geometries of fearsome armor splayed open to bare the flickering blue of his core, the most vulnerable part of his body, the most holy. The warrior's hands were held level with his chest, almost protectively over his spark, not close enough to brush the outermost corona of energy, but close enough for him to feel the fitful shifting of frequencies between his EM field and his core.

It began with meditation. It was much easier these days to slip into that hazy calmness now that Star Saber felt secure in his plans, in his destiny. He could feel the warmth of Primus's approval every time he gripped his sword, and it came to him now, slinking through his thoughts, spreading through his consciousness, leaving it flush with rapture and obedience.

_Only for you, my Lord. All of this, for you._

Star Saber's fingers twitched and his entire frame shuddered with ecstatic piety.

Physical pleasure was nothing compared to that feeling. Star Saber belonged to Primus, burned with devotion for him, and as his mind slipped further and further into enlightenment, he felt it suffusing through him, every particle of his being ringing with worship. An almost plaintive sound slipped from his vocalizer.

_All I am, for you._

When his fingers finally dipped down, his entire frame was trembling lightly. Tiny forks of threadlike energy sizzled between the spark's flickering outer corona and Star Saber's fingers. He imagined that the delicate touches were that of his very soul reaching out to him, a physical expression of the all-pervading _oneness_ that was gripping his mind. He hummed, low and pleased, bringing his fingers to dip even lower, dragging the tips deeper into the dense roiling energies of his spark.

The warrior's powerful frame arched in one slow, sinuous motion, his head tipping to the side, optics flickering with the faintest light, his spine curved to bring his chest closer to his fingers. Pleasure thrummed through him, the physical sensations mingling with the stronger undercurrents of his devotion, and the harmony that filled him was positively divine.

_All I feel, for you._

His interface components were reacting; he could feel his spike pressurizing under its plating, the tight channel of his valve twitching instinctively. He ignored them. He had no use for the crude sensations they could offer him, and never had. They were simply mechanical components, mere extensions of his body, weak and paltry distractions in comparison to the bliss he felt radiating through his whole body.

“Primus,” he breathed. Star Saber was not the first mech to invoke the name of his god in the throes of passion, but he was perhaps the only who uttered it as a prayer.

His fingers curled ever so slightly, and energies boiled between them, sending jolts of ecstacy skittering through his wiring, blooming with slow warmth through his fuel lines. He had never stopped trembling. He writhed against the berth, his frame squirming as if leaning into some unseen touch, and in his mind, blank with pleasure and piety, he imagined he could almost feel it, almost feel the gentle brushes against his frame, the light caress of an attentive and approving god.

“Primus...” More desperate now, hoarse, but no less devoted.

His second hand dipped between his spread-wide armor plates, fingertips gently rubbing the rim of his spark chamber, the cradle of his soul, the source of his Primus-given life. He caressed the warm metal lovingly, thankfully, as if he were laying his fingers on the lifemetal of the god himself. Each ventilation was accompanied by a soft gasping sighs. They passed from his vocalizer with all the reverence of a prayer.

“Primus.” A plea, a prayer.

His spark sizzled under his fingers, dazzling arcs of light spiderwebbing between his fingers, racing over his palm. Star Saber arched to an even greater degree, angling his entire body towards his own touch. His optics were unfocused with ecstasy, his mind locked in an endless stream: _humbly and joyfully I obey I serve I belong to you_ _ **this is my purpose**_ _my Lord my Lord_ _ **my Lord**_ _—_

“ _Primus!”_ Ardent, shaky with exultation.

Overload hit him, devoured his coherence, left him brainless with euphoria, his mind wiped clean but for the vague sensation of honor, of joy, of a visceral wrenchingly _sexual_ satisfaction of embracing his subservience to his god, of surrendering himself wholly and fervently to the desires of Primus. Star Saber was silent, frame curved off the berth in a tense, shaking arc, optics blank as pleasure pulsed through the entirety of his frame.

It was no less that utter domination, domination of his body and his soul, and Star Saber _loved_ it, craved it, zealously reveled in it as the overload pulsed through him.

When it finally released him, he fell limply back against the berth, his vents gusting for cooling air. A contented afterglow settled over his thoughts, and with languid fluidity, the holy warrior drew his hands away from his spark chamber as the armor plating slid and clicked into place. Primus's presence was withdrawing, leaving nothing in its wake but a pious lassitude. A gratified sense of subservience pulsed at the back of Star Saber's mind, and as he lay there, frame cooling, he closed his eyes and let the sense of well-being permeate him body and soul.

_Amen._


End file.
